The Ballet Battle
by The Blue Sorceress
Summary: Vegeta's competitive nature leads him into unkown territory... the ballet class. All in good fun humor for all ages. *Edited*


The Ballet Battle 

It all started when Bra began to take ballet lessons at the Satan City Dance Academy. At the age of eight she was beginning to drift away from fighting and toward more girlish things. Her favorite color all throughout that year was pink, she loved her stuffed teddy bear, and when she saw the Saffron City Ballet Company perform while on a school trip she decided that she wanted to be a ballerina. 

Well that was all fine and dandy except that when she had her first recital she of course wanted her parents to come. Both of them. So it was that on one Friday evening Vegeta found himself squeezed between Bulma and Trunks with his regular Friday evening sparring partner, Chryseis, one row behind him, in a small theater in the heart Satan City watching his daughter dance around the stage in a pink tutu and tights with about ten other girls and one boy. The boy got to forego the tutu even though he had to keep the tights. Vegeta almost felt sorry for the little brat. Almost. 

The ballet was -according to the program, which Vegeta read to hold boredom at bay whenever Bra wasn't on stage- an abbreviated version of the old classic "Swan Lake". Well, Vegeta didn't know anything about ballet, but to him it seemed most of the children on stage were about as graceless as a bunch of newborn baby birds, not the swans they were playing the parts of. Bra, because of her martial arts training was the only competent one, and so she was given the role of lead swan. The other little girls tripped, stumbled and generally looked ridiculous as they danced around, but Bra twirled, stepped and leaped like a natural. 

When the performance was over -finally!- Bulma went backstage to collect Bra and Vegeta found himself out in the lobby of the theater with Trunks as Chryseis while nearly a dozen sets of relatives and friends of the other little dancers chatted about the 'wonderful' job their children had done. 

One mother actually came up and told Vegeta, "Your little swan princess did a great job!" 

Vegeta nodded his head and prayed the woman would leave. Her perfume smelled like she'd spent her years living in an incense shop and it was giving him a headache. Unfortunately just then Bulma appeared with Bra and the two women began to go through some sort of bizarre human ritual that involved complimenting the other's child and swapping stories. 

Bra tugged on Vegeta's shirt sleeve, "Daddy," she whispered, wrinkling up her nose, "that lady's perfume smells yucky. Can we go outside?" 

"Whatever," Vegeta replied. He headed for the door, and Chryseis, and Trunks followed him, glad for an excuse to leave the crowded lobby. 

It was early winter and the air outside was cold. A few lonely snowflakes were falling lazily to the ground. Trunks helped his little sister into her coat while Chryseis leaned against the metal stair rail. 

"You did a great job, kiddo," Chryseis said to Bra. She exhaled and watched as her breath turned to frost before her eyes. 

"Thanks," Bra replied. She snuggled into her coat. "Yurien, the boy who danced the prince part, he kept almost stepping on my toes. I wished I could've kicked him. He's a dummy." 

"Most boys are," Chryseis told her. 

"In particular, yours," Vegeta said, taking the opportunity to snipe at Chryseis' choice of husband. 

Just a week ago Chryseis and Yamcha had had their one year anniversary, and she was feeling too pleasant to really snipe back. "Well, that's what you think," she said. "I wonder if Bryseus'll take ballet too..." she mused, thinking happily about her baby daughter whom she had left home with Yamcha so that she could go with the Briefs to see Bra dance that night. 

"Not likely," Vegeta said, "she'll probably be as uncoordinated as her mother." 

"Are you saying that I couldn't dance like they were?" Chryseis inquired. There was a little edge of ice in her voice. 

"No, you could dance like they were," Vegeta replied, "those little brats didn't have any grace either." 

Chryseis glared at him. "Oh shove it," she said, "it's not like you could do any better. You've got as much delicacy as an elephant." 

"I'd still do better than you." 

Trunks, listening to the exchange between his father and his sparring partner and began to worry. He sensed a competition coming on. 

"Oh I doubt that," Chryseis said, smirking confidently, "at the Royal Martial Academy some dance training was required to improve balance and flexibility. It wasn't ballet, but I'm sure I could do anything those kids were doing better than you ever could." 

"Want to bet?" Vegeta growled. 

"Sure," Chryseis replied. She put her hands on her hips. "What do you say we have a little contest?" 

"You're on," Vegeta said, smirking. 

At that moment Bulma came out of the theater and let out a great sigh of annoyance. "Well, so much for polite conversation. That woman in there hit me up for a job at Capsule Corp. almost as soon as she got the chance. I hate, hate _hate_ people like that." She paused and caught the competitive smirks that Vegeta and Chryseis were tossing to one another. She turned to Trunks. "Did I miss something?" 

Trunks replied, "They're arguing about who would be the more graceful dancer." 

Bulma's jaw dropped open a little way and she had to make a conscious effort to close it. "You've got to be kidding!" she whispered. 

"Chryseis challenged Dad to a contest," Trunks continued. 

"What? Pirouettes at forty paces?" 

Trunks shook his head. 

"It's settled then," Chryseis said grinning deviously. She hadn't even noticed that Bulma had arrived let alone heard the conversation she'd had with Trunks. "Tomorrow morning we sign up for classes at the dance academy. Then we'll see whose uncoordinated!" 

Bulma sighed again. There was really no point in trying to convince either Vegeta or Chryseis that neither of them were cut out for ballet and that they'd both just make fools of themselves. On the other hand there _was_ a point to _watching_ them make fools out of themselves; it would be very entertaining. 

*** 

Ms. Emilli Watson looked up from her desk and saw two people approaching, a man and a woman each carrying a gym bag. Both looked to be the body builder type and Ms. Watson wondered if they hadn't gotten the wrong building. "May I help you?" she asked. 

The woman pushed past the man right up to the desk. "Yeah, we want to sign up for classes." 

Ah, they _had _gotten the wrong building. "I'm sorry the gym is right next door..." 

"I know that!" the woman snapped. "We want to sign up for ballet classes." 

Ms. Watson looked at the woman, and then past her to the glowering, man who was standing with his arms crossed next to the wall. "You do?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Of course we do!" the woman all but roared. "I said we did didn't I?" 

"Yes, yes of course!" Ms. Watson squeaked, ducking down and away from the intimidating woman. She fumbled in a drawer for the appropriate forms. "If you'll just fill these out..." 

The woman snatched the papers and looked them over skeptically. "What's this for?" she demanded. 

"Just something to insure that if you get hurt that you don't hold the Academy liable for your injury," Ms. Watson explained. She tried to drive the quake out of her voice to little avail. 

The woman snorted. "Listen, lady, nothing in this building could hurt me or him," she jerked her thumb at her scowling companion. 

"They also have the billing information," Ms. Watson said, ducking further behind her desk. She was almost under the desk now, with just her nose and eyes sticking up above it. 

"Huh," said the woman. "Hey, toss me the cash," she said to the man. 

The man grunted and pulled a small wad of bills out of his coat pocket. He tossed them to the woman, who caught them without even turning her head to look. 

"This should cover it," said the woman, dropping the money on the desk. "Where's the class?" 

"The first door down the hall on the right," Ms. Watson said, trembling, "but you have to fill in the forms..." 

Her words fell on deaf ears, for no sooner had she said where the class was then both the man and the woman were walking off down the hall. 

Ms. Watson flopped backward onto the floor and whimpered, "I quit." 

*** 

"I hate dealing with red tape," Chryseis said as she and Vegeta made their way down the hall. "Reminds me of the stupid bureaucracy back in my dimension. You practically had to fill a form out to go take a piss." 

Vegeta said nothing, as usual he wasn't in the mood for small talk. 

The classroom was a large rectangular room with mirrors lining one of the long walls and a number of waist-high metal bars on stands were lined up to either side of the door. There were already eleven other students in the room, all were women and most were middle aged, although two or three were in their twenties. Another woman, obviously the teacher of the class, was stretching out in the middle of the floor. She wore a black leotard and leggings and her dark hair was tied up in a bun so tight that it tugged at the corners of her eyes. 

Chryseis shrugged out of her coat and dropped her gym bag on the mats near the door then kicked her shoes off. Vegeta followed suit, cracking his knuckles impatiently. 

The dance teacher got up off the floor and with an intense grace approached the two new comers. "Ah, so Emilli did find me two more students," she smiled, but her eyes remained a pair of cold emeralds under her dark brows. "And a man too. Not many men are interested in ballet as adults. Your names?" 

"Vegeta," the Saiyan Prince said coldly. 

"Last name?" the teacher prompted. She wandered over and picked up a notebook and pencil that had been laying on the floor. "Last name?" she asked again. 

Vegeta said nothing. 

"Do you have a last name?" the teacher demanded irritably. 

Vegeta was about to say 'no', when Chryseis stepped in and said, "It's Briefs," she said. 

Vegeta shot her a look of death. 

"And your name?" 

"Chryseis de Curion," Chryseis answered. 

"I am Ms. Sylvana Jay," said the teacher. "I assume you paid out at the desk?" 

"Yeah, we sure did," Chryseis said. 

"Then go to the changing room and get out of your street clothes. And hurry! I won't wait for you," ordered Ms. Jay. 

Both Chryseis and Vegeta decided it might be best to do as she said. Not because they wanted to obey their teacher, but because they took their competition seriously. It turned out that it was good that they complied so quickly because Ms. Sylvana Jay was a dance tyrant. She began her class by saying at the end of their three months of classes she did not expect her thirteen pupils to be any good, but she would give them something to start with, if they worked hard enough. Not if they did their best, if they worked 'hard enough'. No one's best was enough unless it was Ms. Jay's best, in which case it was perfect. Ms. Jay also announced that they would be learning an abbreviated version of "Swan Lake", just like the children's class had. Ms. Jay had her opinions about the children's class, which was being taught by another teacher at the academy, the supposedly 'too soft' Mrs. Angeline, but that's beside the point. 

The point is that Ms. Jay acted as if someone had shoved an iron rod up her ass that morning, in the not-so-humble opinion of Vegeta, which he didn't hesitate to express as soon as he got out of the class. 

To that Chryseis added. "And not in the good way." 

Privately both of them held all sorts of theories as to origin Ms. Jay's temper: Her bun was too tight, she was demon possessed, she was a sadist, she was the reincarnation of Frieza, etc. but it was only later that they really figured it out. She was just a bitch, pure and simple. 

So for three months Chryseis and Vegeta endured three hours a day, three days a week of, "No, no, no! Your arms must be like this!" 

Not to mention... 

"Chryseis! What are you doing? You look like a dying chicken, not a swan! Think swan you little goose!" 

And then of course there was... 

"Vegeta! You don't stomp through the movement! Dance it! You sound like an elephant!" 

And of course there were the endless exercises during the thirty minutes of warm up they had at the beginning of class before Ms. Jay got to showing them her choreography. 

As if Ms. Jay's dictatorial teaching wasn't hell enough for the two warriors-turned dancers, they also had to wear the same sort of black leotard-and-legging ensemble that she did. It wasn't that it was tight, both Chryseis and Vegeta could deal with tight, their training clothes were tight, it was that the leotard rode up whenever they _pliéd_ or _dévloped_, and neither of them were willing to do something so hideously embarrassing as pick a wedgie while someone else was right behind them. 

*** 

Finally the three months of hell were over and it was the night of the performance. By virtue of his being the only male in the class, Vegeta was chosen as the Prince, which he found fitting, and through sheer determination and the fact that she had bribed or threatened the rest of the class into flubbing their auditions, Chryseis got the part of the Swan Princess. Thankfully the adult class got to forego pink tutus. Instead they wore white tutus with pretty feather headdresses that were spattered with silver glitter. Because she was the Swan Princess Chryseis was lucky enough to get to wear and extra special leotard, one with glittery silver stars and everything. Needless to say she was far from overjoyed. 

While the two stars of the show waited backstage and argued about the outcome of their little contest their families were settling themselves into their seats. 

"I can't believe Dad actually went through with this," Trunks said, shaking his head. "God I hope none of my friends are here. I'll never live this down." 

"I think Daddy makes a great ballerina," Bra protested. 

Yamcha, who had managed to find a baby-sitter for his daughter that night so he could see his wife dance, was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. To be more accurate he was there mostly to see his wife perform. he also couldn't believe Vegeta was actually going to be dancing around on stage, and felt the need to confirm this strange event by seeing it with his own two eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm sure he's a great ballerina," he said, chuckling quietly. 

"Shh!" Bulma hissed. "It's starting!" 

The theater faded to black and the stage lights and curtain came up. For a while the chorus swans danced around, about as graceful as a bunch of hippopotamus, and then Chryseis entered. She whirled, she twirled and in general seemed to do much better than the rest of her fellow students. Until, that is, she tripped over another woman's foot. She caught herself in time to stop her fall, but she was two beats off from the rest of the group for the rest of the movement. Suddenly the lights went up far on the left side of the stage, and Vegeta entered. He was by far the grouchiest Prince ever to perform "Swan Lake" as far as the audience was concerned. Yamcha nearly fell out of his seat and had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. Despite all his efforts he still attracted a few pairs of questioning eyes. 

Vegeta pirouetted across to the middle of the stage, where Chryseis was busily turning and turning and turning, while the chorus swans _entrechanted_ off stage. The two warriors danced warily up to one another, and -maintaining as little contact as possible- danced a very unromantic romantic duet. 

*** 

"Damn it, Vegeta! You're on my toe!" Chryseis hissed under her breath. 

"Well your toe was in the wrong place!" Vegeta hissed back. 

*** 

And then it was time for the finale, in which the chorus swans danced back on stage and together with the Swan Princess and her grouchy Prince performed a series of spins, twirls, grapevines, and leaps. The performance ended with Vegeta lifting Chryseis high in the air by her waist. Neither of them seemed very happy, not even when the audience clapped for their bow. 

"God damn, Vegeta, could you possibly have ground my toe any harder into the stage?" Chryseis demanded irritably as she and Vegeta stalked out toward the lobby. She caught sight of Yamcha, who was still snickering a little, with Bulma Trunks and Bra and headed toward them. 

"You did a great job, hon," Yamcha said, to Chryseis, patting her on the back. 

"Daddy! Daddy!" Bra exclaimed, "You stepped on her toes just like the boy who played my Prince did!" 

"No, kiddo, your prince couldn't have stepped on your toes like you daddy did or else you wouldn't be walking," Chryseis grumped. 

Bulma laughed. "You both did a fine job." She held up a camera. "I can't wait to get these pictures developed." 

"Give me that!" both Chryseis and Vegeta shouted, lunging for the camera. 

"Trunks, catch," Bulma said, throwing the camera to her son. "Quick, go hide that!" 

Trunks took off toward the door, with Chryseis and Vegeta right on his tail. 

Grinning, Bulma pulled a second camera out of her coat. "I knew they'd do that." She burst out laughing and tucked the camera safely away as she headed out the door. "Come on you two, I want to see what they do to that other camera!" 

Bra trotted quickly after her mother and Yamcha followed after, throwing his coat on as he went. Out side Chryseis and Vegeta had managed to tackled Trunks to the snowy sidewalk and wrest the camera from his grip. Vegeta gleefully took the film out of the camera and ground it into the concrete before handing the camera back to Bulma. 

Chryseis let Trunks up off the ground and roughly brushed the snow off of him. "Well, that takes care of that," she said. "Now onto more important stuff. You've got to admit that I dance better than you. My broken toes attest to that much." 

Vegeta looked at her as if she were daft. "I said that your toes are your own damn fault, they were in the wrong place." 

"No, your toes were in the wrong place: on mine," Chryseis argued. "What do you guys think?" she asked Yamcha and Bulma, "I'm better, right?" 

"Er..." Yamcha said. 

"Well..." Bulma began. 

"Daddy makes the best ballerina!" Bra exclaimed. 

Vegeta nearly fell over in shock. "I'm not a ballerina!" 

This time Trunks snickered. 

Chryseis smiled evilly. "Okay, you win. Vegeta, you're the best ballerina, congratulations." 

"I'm not a ballerina!" 

"No, I admit it, you're a better ballerina than me. No false modestly now." 

Vegeta was nearly apoplectic. "I'm not a ballerina!" 

"You're right, you're not just a ballerina, you're the best ballerina!" 

"I'm not any kind of ballerina!" 

Their shouts echoed down the empty streets, and laughing their families followed after. Thus ended the ballet battle, the only competition Vegeta ever won and didn't want to brag about. 

The End 

______________________________________________________________________________ 

A/N: I can't say this was the best fic I've ever written, but it's not too bad. I came up with the idea when I was in the middle of dance class at my high school (I go to a performing arts charter school) and figured I might as well write it. 

This also serves as the introduction to my war against plotless, pointless humor fics, an item that the DBZ section seems to be full of. My most unwanted list includes: 

List Fics: They crop up every now and then, we've all seen them, we all know them, we all know how annoying it is to see the same thing repeated over and over again. These aren't even fics, they're lists. So if you've go one go post it in the 'lists' section. 

Script Fics: Though not limited to humor fics, script fics are usual meant to be funny. Once again these aren't even fanfics, they're fanplays. Be a caring, conscientious author and change your script to prose, it's good writing and your readers will thank you for it. 

Character Bash Fics: They're everywhere! We all dislike someone, we all like to make that someone the butt of our jokes, but it doesn't do any good to be pointless about it. If you want to write a satire that makes fun of a character you dislike at least use smart humor, not 'so-and-so sucks so I'll make him/her a homosexual/feminazi' type humor. All that is going to result in is flames. Use subtlety and maybe you'll win a few converts, and plus you won't have to deal with the flames. ^ _ ^ 

My mission is simple. I only want to increase the number of genuinely funny humor fic in the DBZ section and decrease the number of fics that fit the description of those on my most unwanted list. You, as a good author and reader, can encourage your fellow authors to do the same by providing constructive criticism. 

Thanks much! 

The Blue Sorceress 


End file.
